


Now & Forever

by saviorbrother



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s02e22 All Hell Breaks Loose, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:30:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saviorbrother/pseuds/saviorbrother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misery killed the cat, Dean's dissatisfaction brought it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now & Forever

He met Sam Winchester on a Monday. May 2nd, 1983. Barely a hair on his head when Dean ran up to the hospital bed to see him. 

"Can I hold him, Momma?"

"Not yet, Dean. You're not big enough, sweetie."

He watched as Mary handed his little brother over to his teary-eyed father. A tiny bundle in thick arms but he was held like he was fragile. Dean couldn't help the excitement in his chest as he bounced on his feet. His destiny began on that day.

 

Mary Winchester was stolen by death on a Wednesday. November 2nd, 1983. Dean woke out of his sleep when he heard her scream and his fathers' answering call in return.

That was the day he was big enough to hold Sam in his arms and get him to safety. He had been waiting for the day he was deemed worthy to carry his little brother, but he hadn't meant it to happen like this. 

"It's okay, Sammy."

He prayed to God and tried to tell him he made a mistake. He wanted to be able to hold Sam, but he didn't want his mother to die. He shook hands with reality that night.

 

He remembers a specific day, he was a senior. Sam was a freshman. They were in such a small town that Sam got placed in Dean's english period because he was so advanced. 

"Dean Winchester, how about setting an example for your brother by coming up to the front of the class to read the rest of this poem."

Her name was Mrs. Herkshire. Upstanding citizen that just loved the ever-loving fuck out of Sam. He did too, but in a different way.

"Of course, Miss," he shrugged, standing up with his paper.

He wouldn't admit it outloud, but he was shaking. Anxiety came with standing in front of a room full of kids his age. And Sam. He had tasted that pink mouth, touched that awkward limbed body, and been inside that boy like it was his job. Which it wasn't, but he won't discuss that. 

"Title, Winchester?" Mrs. Herkshire asked with impatience.

He opened his mouth a few times and then stared at Sam's face, his lips. Mouthing for him to calm down.

"Howl by Allen Ginsberg."

"Good, now read."

He read the words more to Sam than anyone else. Dean couldn't concentrate on anyone else staring at him. They never listened to a word he said, only looked to fantasize about his mouth. He was another dumb blonde.

" Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy!" He bellowed into the classroom, mindless as some people laughed.

And he remembers this so clearly because he won't forget the dilated pupils in Sam's eyes or how he wasn't staring at his mouth, just at him. His whole being. He was seen as the words he was speaking.

"The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy! The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy!"

And Lord, it was all holy. Felt like purity with Sam. More people broke into laughter on cock, some laughs were uncomfortable and nervous. Sam stared at him with an intensity so great he vibrated with it, or Dean had been staring back for too long.

This is what it feels like to know that you won't ever escape what's between you and another person because eternity is stretched between the two of you. It was when Dean noticed he couldn't go on without Sam, he wouldn't.

"Everything is holy! Everybody’s holy! Everywhere is holy! Every day is in eternity! Everyman’s an angel!" Dean yells into the room so exaggerated for the people in the back.

Preaching to a room full of people who'll never have any idea about how sharp and clean love truly is. Love is sitting in the desk in front of him, red-cheeked and grinning.

 

At 22, Dean discovers that eternity is more painful when spent alone. When the red strings between wrists tighten so greatly it feels like it might snap. When he wants to yank Sam back by the frayed pieces, tie it around his neck like a leash, and force him to stay. The bite marks on Sam's chest and neck prove that he is his, the spit on his dick prove that Sam is his, the bruises on those thighs prove that Sam is owned.

"I don't belong to you."

Sam says in so quiet, his head resting against the window. He says it because the car is crawling up to 100mph and Dean is gripping the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He was thinking about driving them both off the nearest cliff to end it and be together forever. They won't suffer anymore. 

"I know," he responds.

But you told me over and over again. He told Dean this so many times, it was the reason he even let Sam into his bed. 

"I just need to leave."

It wasn't that Sam wanted to die, not at that time, he just wanted to live a different life. He didn't want to live that life. Dean can't guilt him by saying that he devoted his whole life to letting Sam live normally. He guessed it was because Dean didn't know how to build a white picket fence and a house yet. And he didn't let dogs in the car. 

That's what he loved about Baby. She didn't remind him of home. Not the old definition of it.

 

Normal people don't break into their siblings house for a beer in the middle of the night. They don't fight with their out of practice little brothers in the dark of their kitchen. But they do gawk at the hot girlfriend.

"You've gotta tell me what's that like, huh?" he pokes Sam in the stomach once Jessica is gone.

Hazel eyes glare at him in disgust and jealousy. He hopes Sam knew that Dean was more intent on how all that skin looked stretched over so much more sinewy muscle and bone. He wanted to see if his brother tasted different or if his voice goes as high when Dean sticks his tongue inside him.

 

holy the hideous human angel!

The poem comes back to him more often now that Sam is riding shotgun again and looking at him the same way he did in that classroom. The same look that graces his dreams the first time he invites Sam into his bed again.

the voice is holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!

The sex is biblical, god help his dick. He gets hard with every move Sam makes now. The smile comes back now, death isn't so heavy on Sam's shoulders when Dean makes him laugh. All Dean can do is write about Sam in his head.

 

He doesn't completely fill Sam up anymore. He has visions more frequently and he swims in failure. Dean should have seen the signs, he was too blinded.

"Dean."

It should have been more like a sigh of relief, it sounds more like an apology. He starts to run when Jake comes up behind Sammy. He wishes he could tug at that red string now. 

Sunday. April 29th, 2007. Dean holds Sam's body in his arms. He's too big to cradle in his arms and there's so much hair on his head, and he doesn't cry. He doesn't make a sound. Not a peep. Sam isn't a baby anymore and Dean is, once again, not big enough to hold him. Sam is a fully grown man and Dean helped with that, he did that. Why does everything he loves die? He tends to it and tries his best to keep it breathing.

There's a note in Sam pocket. It fell out when Dean was carrying his lifeless body to safety.

Holy forgiveness!Mercy! Charity! Faith! Holy! Ours! Bodies! Suffering! Magnanimity!

Dean feels his arms go weak as the note sinks into the mud. Sunday. April 29th, 2007. Sam Winchester tried to kill himself. And succeeded. Sam knew Jake was going to stab him. He let him. Suicide by another's hand. The plead for forgiveness and mercy was not for god. Faith was not being asked, but commanded. They were both suffering, but Sam was tired. Magnanimity. Do not disturb Sam in death, let him die. 

 

Tuesday. May 2nd, 2007. Sam awakes from the dead, confused and upset. Dean doesn't mean to, but he pushes his little brother down onto the flimsy bed. Squeezes Sam's throat between his hands till Sam claws at his forearms, eyes still intense till Dean hears angels in his head. 

He releases him. He swears he wasn't planning on having sex with Sam on that bed. Dean chokes him while they fuck and Sam doesn't care about feeling the brink of death, but Dean releases and brings him back. Shows Sam, he has that power and won't relinquish it. 

"I will raise you from the grave every time," he tells Sam.

Eyes roll back in slow motion while Sam comes in fat gobs, quivering on the bed as he fights for air. Dean forces Sam to his knees and holds his cock to red lips. Life. The sound of warm breath as a pink tongue rolls out to lap at his leaking dick. Panting, wheezing, and sleepy eyes.

"Don't ever leave me like that again."

Sam gags himself on Dean till he's swallowing bitter come.

Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!

Misery killed the cat, Dean's dissatisfaction brought it back.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: deantops-sambottoms


End file.
